Poem by John Milton

To the Lord Generall Cromwell, May 1652

On the Proposalls of Certaine Ministers 
at the Committee for Propagation of the Gospell

Cromwell, our cheif of men, who through a cloud
Not of warr onely, but detractions rude,
Guided by faith & matchless Fortitude
To peace & truth thy glorious way hast plough’d,
And on the neck of crowned Fortune proud
Hast reard Gods Trophies, & his work pursu’d,
While Darwen stream with blood of Scotts imbru’d,
And Dunbarr field resounds thy praises loud,
And Worsters laureat wreath; yet much remaines
To conquer still; peace hath her victories
No less renownd then warr, new foes aries
Threatning to bind our soules with secular chaines:
Helpe us to save free Conscience from the paw
Of hireling wolves whose Gospell is their maw.

1. To the Lord General Fairfax
2. Paradise Lost : Book 7
3. Paradise Lost : Book 6
4. Psalm 4 (Answer me when I call)
5. Paradise Lost : Book 11

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